


angel, baby, cupcake, dear

by herotoon



Category: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Flirting, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-23 21:48:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17691704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herotoon/pseuds/herotoon
Summary: “I didn’t know you were a criminal, and yet here ya are, stealin’ my heart.”“You a bank loan? Because you’ve got my interest.”“I’d think you’d be more tired after running through my mind all day!”





	angel, baby, cupcake, dear

**Author's Note:**

> i have the flu and i wrote this in a feverish dream-state. ive lost all sense of shame and youre all going to learn the true meaning of tooth rotting fluff if it kills me

It had started out small.

They were rarely in the same universe for long, so it was always in passing. Quick glances and brief chats that ended in either shy smiles or fights with no bite, bickering with something soft behind it. 

Then Ham would drop little quips into the conversation that left Noir feeling bubbly and strange.

Noir found himself sitting under a dark street lamp, only for the light to flicker on as a distinct shadow lowered itself down to just above his head.

“Have I told you that you  _ light _ up my life?”

“...Hey, Porker,” he said, looking up to see the masked toon hanging a few inches above his face.

These kinds of lines continued every time that Ham saw him, either as a greeting or a farewell.

“I didn’t know you were a criminal, and yet here ya are, stealin’ my heart.”

“You a bank loan? Because you’ve got  _ my _ interest.”

“I’d think you’d be more tired after running through my mind all day!”

Among other, cheesier lines, each one punctuated with a wink and finger guns and Ham swinging away before he could get a word in. Not that he was able to think of a response any given time- he was often too busy spluttering to himself and wondering what was going on.

Even when they’d talk outside of those instances, Noir would pick up on the way Ham gradually started acting… different. Less teasing him, more quick glances up at him. Ham was constantly checking to see if Noir was paying attention to him, and…

Well, he wouldn’t have noticed that if he wasn’t paying attention. Ham was distracting.

That was the only real problem Noir had with it.

It was  _ quite _ distracting.

If he had spotted Ham by the time a fight had already started and Ham hadn’t spoken to him yet, he would end up thinking about it nonstop while he worked. 

If he started a mission with Ham talking to him… He’d also end up thinking about it nonstop while he worked.

It made him  _ clumsy.  _ It made his heart go a little too fast and his head feel a little dizzy and his legs a little weak, and of course, when you’re trying to save the world, that’s a bit of an issue.

Actually telling Ham that was also an issue, because something about saying, “Hey, I need ya to stop flirting with me, because it’s making me feel too...  _ weird  _ to shoot straight!” 

In Noir’s mind, the easiest way out was to  _ show _ Ham why this was a problem.

Before a fight they had both been asked to assist with, Noir leaned against a building, waiting for a signal to let them know to come help, if backup was needed. Ham hadn’t approached him yet, so it was only a matter of-

“You must be good at cards.”

Ah. Right on schedule.

Noir turned to see Ham leaning against the wall, sticking to the bricks just to Noir’s left so that they were eye level. 

“And why’s that?” Noir responded, finding himself smiling behind his mask. 

“You look like an ace of hearts t’ me,” Ham winked. He was smirking, and had a cocky look on his face. He was about to swing off for the evening when Noir put a hand over his, stopping him. Ham made eye contact, and he suddenly felt nervous for reasons he couldn’t quite place.

“You- ah… You were good out there today. Fighting ‘nd all that.”

Ham blinked, turning back to look at him with a smirk. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Noir took a breath and steadied himself, shifting his weight onto one foot. “You’re always a knockout t’ me, though.”

He could have sworn Ham was blushing, even through the mask. His ears perked up and he scratched the back of his neck with his free hand, laughing breathlessly. “Heh… Well, aren’t you quite the charmer? Tryin’ to beat me at my own game?”

“Well, what can I say?” he stood up fully, standing in front of Ham and leaning forward, almost touching their noses together, planting his hand to the right of Ham’s head. “I was  _ inspired _ .”

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but hearts weren’t it. Hearts in Ham’s eyes, and hearts swirling around his head. Ham covered his face with his hands, clearly flustered, peeking between his fingers. “You’re too good at this,” he said through his laughter.

“Thanks, doll.”

Ham laughed harder, shrinking back behind his hands again. “ _ Doll??? _ ”

“Would you prefer sweetheart?”

“Geez, you’re killin’ me over here, my love,” Ham pretended to swoon, leaning against Noir’s arm.

Noir had been through a lot in his life. He had been stabbed, shot at, hunted, and much worse. He knew how to handle criminals and lowlifes and the worst of the worst. 

He didn’t know how to handle this. He didn’t know how to deal with gentle hands on his sleeve, a genuinely lovestruck stare turned his way, and sappy pet names normally reserved for married couples. 

And their watches beeped.

Ham patted his arm. “Duty calls. You feelin’ alright?”

“I- Just- Just peachy,” Noir replied, his voice only shaking a little bit. Ham snorted.

“Cute. Come join us when ya can.”

He swung into the fray, and Noir followed after a few seconds of stunned silence. 

Somehow, Ham fought even  _ better _ after that, and Noir noticed, because he spent the entire time accidentally staring at him. He had  _ never  _ been more thankful for the mirror coat on his goggles.

So the game was afoot. They’d fall into a back and forth pattern like it was second nature, only winning when one refused to compete.

Neither of them ever really lost, because is it really losing if the game is  _ who can flirt with the other more _ , and they both absolutely adore it?

The next time he saw Ham outside of a fight, they were just having a game night in Miles’ dimension. That May’s house had become a sort of hub- Peni insisted on calling it the spider den. 

Miles and Peni were in the kitchen trying to cook dinner for everyone, with Peter B “supervising” (read: sitting on his phone). May was helping Gwen with a malfunction in her web shooters, so Ham and Noir were left sitting on the couch together.

Well, sort of. Noir had draped himself over the sofa and Ham was standing on the cushions, bouncing up and down on it.

“Oh, apple of my eye?”

Noir looked up from the newspaper he was skimming over, his cheeks going dark. He still had his mask on, for this exact reason. “Yes, buttercup?”

Ham picked up on the pattern and stopped bouncing, hopping up to lay face down, sprawled across Noir’s stomach. He was warm and heavy, but not too heavy. It was nice, comforting in a way he couldn’t place or explain.

“What’s your favorite song?”

Noir thought for a long while, then shrugged. “I don’t listen to the radio much. I like jazz, I s’pose. Why ask?”

“Just curious, cherry pie.”

Noir laughed, a rich, rumbling sound. “You hungry today or what?”

“Maybe,” Ham raised his voice a bit, “If the toddlers in the kitchen would hurry  _ uuuuuup- _ ”

Shouts of indignation came from the other room and Ham laughed, resting his head on Noir’s chest.

Noir rolled his eyes and straightened his newspaper, blocking Ham from his sight. Ham pouted, sticking his head underneath the pages. 

“Pay attention to me.”

“I’m reading, dumbass.”

“Hey! That one isn’t cute! You can’t use that!”

“Too late, doll,” Noir pulled the newspaper closer, cutting him off again.

Ham just scooted up again, and the cycle repeated until his nose squished against Noir’s chin and there was no way for the newspaper to get closer without being unreadable. Noir held the paper up above his head and looked down at Ham, who was now very smugly cuddling into the base of his neck. 

“Are you done?”

“Whatever do you mean, my earth, moon, and stars?”

“You’re positively dreadful _ ,  _ fuzzball.”

“Shut up. Shhh…” Ham sat up, pawing for his mouth through his mask with both hands to try and silence him. “Where is your mouth-? Take your mask off for a second so I can tape it shut.”

_ That’s a no-no, _ said some little part of Noir’s brain, but he had long since stopped caring. He rolled his eyes and reached for the button on the back of his mask, unzipping it and pulling it off his head. Everything was blurry without his glasses on, still clipped into the interior of the mask.

But even without clear vision, he could see the way Ham’s eyes widened, the way he covered his mouth. 

“Is my hair really that messed up? I didn’t exactly-”

“Well, hello,  _ gorgeous... _ ”

Without his mask there was nothing stopping Ham’s gaze from tracing over every tiny way Noir reacted to that- his own eyes widening and the way his cheeks darkened, a flustered smile pushing its way onto his face no matter how hard he bit down on his bottom lip. 

To say Ham was in awe would be the understatement of the century. He was staring like he was going to be quizzed on him, on the scars across his lip and his eyebrow and the way his nose was a little crooked where someone had broken it years ago. On the way his eyelashes framed his dark grey eyes, on how his hair  _ was _ a mess, sticking out in all directions and looking softer than anything Ham had ever seen in his  _ life _ .

“Hello yourself,” Noir added eloquently, pointedly looking away from Ham. Ham stuck his hands up, pressing them over Noir’s mouth.

He could feel the bit of stubble on Noir’s cheeks, and the way his scars indented his skin. Getting distracted, he ended up just running his hands over Noir’s cheeks, cupping his jaw in his palms and running his thumbs along Noir’s cheekbones. 

Ham’s ears perked up in surprise as Noir closed his eyes in response, a sigh leaving his lips. He looked so peaceful… a strand of hair fell in front of his eyes and Ham lovingly tucked it back before giving in and running his hands through it.

It was just like he thought- soft and fluffy, the smell of rain and metal and stale cigarette smoke clinging to every part of him. 

“Hey, handsome?”

Noir didn’t reply for a moment.

“‘S not your turn.”

“I know, just stating facts.”

Ham absolutely adored the way Noir’s cheeks got warm under his hands.

“Are you blushing?”

“Shut up,” Noir answered.

“You totally are! That’s  _ so  _ cute!”

“I’m putting my mask back on.”

Ham pressed his face against Noir’s, keeping his mask off not unlike the way one might chain themself to a tree to protest construction work.

“Hmm, those sure are bold words for someone in kissin’ range.”

Ham really liked seeing Noir’s face when he flirted with him. How he tried to stay stoic and cool but ended up cracking every single time Ham spoke. How all of his attention was undeniably on him.

“Jesus Christ- just give me a second, will ya? I’m blind as a bat.”

He picked up his mask and fiddled with it, out of Ham’s sight. There was a  _ click _ .

Noir put his glasses on, balancing the big circle frames on the bridge of his nose and blinking as his eyes adjusted.

“Oh. My. Gosh. You’re  _ adorable _ .”

“Do you ever stop talking?”

“Do  _ you  _ know how lovely you look when you’re pretending to be mad?”

Noir looked away. “Watch it.”

“Bold words,” Ham stated, leaning in and planting a kiss on Noir’s cheek with a resounding  _ mwah _ !

“Wh- hey!”

Ham shot a web up at the ceiling and pulled himself up, turning upside down and staying just out of Noir’s reach.

That is, until Noir sat up enough to grab him by the arm and kiss him proper. 

(Well, as proper as one can kiss a pig while he’s dangling from the ceiling, anyhow.)

 

**Author's Note:**

> make sure to like comment and comment please just comment im BEGGIN ya to comment


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